This Christmas
by SopranoZone
Summary: Introspective Christmas fic, circa S5 ish.  Christmas exchange fic from 2009.


**This Christmas**

by _**Sopranozone**_

Posted for the Bones Christmas fic exchange 2009. for Cuban_sombrero

* * *

The apartment was bathed in the warm light provided by the fire and the holiday candles scattered about the apartment. Temperance Brennan sat on the couch, a warm plush throw over her legs as she relaxed in the comfortable silence. In fact, said silence was welcome after the exciting afternoon/evening that had only wound down a half hour before.

Glancing at the remnants of the once pristine room, she briefly wondered how she got to this place. If someone had told her seven years ago that she would not only host a Christmas party in her home, but plan and orchestrate an event suitable for children and adults, she would have told them they were clearly out of their minds. Temperance Brennan did not celebrate Christmas.

Except that had changed. And to an outsider, it would seem to have changed completely by accident. But now she knew it could have been no accident. No, she owed this change in holiday observation to the man who's pile of presents only rivaled her own, sitting under the unlit Christmas tree by the window.

Booth. When she thought back to that fiasco of a first case, it sometimes goggled her mind ('boggled, Bones, boggled.') to think that they could have possibly ended up here. Booth had been an instrument of change in her life from the moment he walked in the Jeffersonian with that cocky swagger and a case file. He had changed the outlooks and routines in her life so much, that she could honestly admit that the woman she had been before she met him wouldn't have been able to comprend that this could honestly be her life.

Christmasses before Booth had entailed trips full of work, sometimes heartache that was compartmentalized; as he had once said "Skeletons and christmas do not mix." And they didn't. Christmas to the old Temperance Brennan had merely been a time when other people saw no need to work, so she would go where the work was inevitable, where she could be productive. But it seemed once she met Booth, every year would be different, with no more trips around the world.

The first year was probably the most uncomfortable. Dr Goodman had denied her request for an extended vacation, and Angela was continuing her annual 'tradition' of trying to get her to participate in the festivities. When Booth had brought in the skeleton, she was thankful for the almost adequate substitute for her trip. Even the lockdown hadn't bothered her too much. No, it was the others that made it hard. Each of them lamented the loss of their holidays; family, friends, vacation...they all had their own traditions that were denied them because of a Christmas lung fungus.

Inevitably, their attempts at 'getting into the spirit' brought to fore emotions that she had avoided fairly easily in years past (by simply not being where the holiday was celebrated). The blatant display of family made her chest ache. Seeing Zack with his relatives, pressing his hands to each of the members of his family, as though he could feel them through the glass. Angela's heartfelt and sad conversation with her father, who she rarely saw. Doctor Goodman's daughters passing the headset excitedly. Even Hodgins' conversation with a tall made over woman, lipstick on the glass. Each visit served as a reminder that she didn't have someone this holiday. But the most poignant was Booth.

The idea hadn't quite sunk in yet; Booth was a father. The idea seemed so odd to her. But the moment that small, curly blonde haired child came into view, and Booth's face had lit up...Brennan had felt a deep and profound ache. Superficially, she had observed the child. Even though he was blonde, she could see the resemblance in the boy's facial features to that of her partner's. But she couldn't help but notice the non-scientific things about the boy and his father, too. The way the child's face lit up as Booth crouched down to his level. She could tell her partner wanted more than anything to be on the other side of that glass.

She had no family. She had no child, no lover. She had no cousins, or aunts or uncles. She didn't even have a brother, or parents, with whom to spend the holidays. But she knew all too well the absence of a loved one at Christmas. So when Booth retreated after his son had left, wiping wetness from his own cheeks, she found herself before the digital tree Angela had created, and telling her best friend the story she had never told anyone before. Somehow, after, when she realized Booth had overheard, she couldn't find herself feeling upset.

Instead, she found herself with a small taste of the 'holiday spirit.' She wanted Angela, Zack, Goodman, Hodgins, Booth, to be able to spend Christmas with their families. She wanted to make that possible. But finding that impossible, she did the next best thing. She found an almost widow and gave her the closure Brennan had always wished to get. And when Booth's little boy had wished her 'Merry Christmas,' and waved to her on their way out the door, she found herself making her way back to the lab. But instead of going to work, she turned on all the lights, the leftover decorations from her coworkers's festivities still hanging. And when she pulled that box that had sat in the cupboard since she'd started working at the Jeffersonian, and opened the packages wrapped in horribly dated wrapping paper, and found that small trinket she hadn't even remembered wanting. She by no means would be celebrating next year, but all things considered, her first Christmas in 15 years was better than it had been.

Little did she know, her Christmasses would never be the same. The next year, her trip was cancelled a week before Christmas when a new case came in, and so inconveniently resisted being solved until Christmas Eve. Booth had surprised her by dropping her off at her brother's house, and they spent a somewhat awkward, but not uncomfortable Christmas that unintentionally healed wounds from their last holiday together years before.

The year after that, the one that Booth affectionately called "The Snowball Year," was one of Brennan's favorites. While her partner had been in a decidedly non-Christmassy mood for the majority of time leading up to it, the surprise of finding him and Parker in the parking lot with a Christmas tree had moved her and warmed her heart. And the mistletoe kiss. To this day, she owed Caroline for getting that small but crucial stumbling block out of their way for them.

The year after was more chaotic, but no less memorable. She had attended the Jeffersonian Christmas Party for the first time, only managing to escape the massacre of carols and confections early due to Booth's panicked phone call concerning a botched Christmas Eve-Eve dinner, Since Booth did not want to disappoint Parker, she had offered to take them with her to her brother's house, where she had been invited by Amy's Christmas dinner only hours before. Her father had dressed up as Santa Claus for Parker and her nieces, and she had refrained from explaining to the children the true origins of the myth.

The year following was harder, but one of her favorites. She had tried to return to her tradition of traveling out of the country, but her father's statement had mercilessly tugged at her metaphorical heart. "Being alone at Christmas means nobody loves you." The statement made her angry at first, causing her want to bluntly ask that if that were the case, why had she been left alone by him for so many Christmasses. But she reigned in the irrationality, reminding herself that it had been for her own safety. She also reasoned that Max was aging, and sentimental. Of course he wouldn't want to be alone at Christmas. So instead, she found herself not only hosting Christmas, but a cousin, who she found...frustrating. But again, Booth had guided her in his usual style, helping her plan a dinner for her friends and family. She made peace with Margaret, offering her a bit of wisdom she felt was more Booth's style, and realized that she had more in common with Margaret than she'd thought.

The next year had been unique. That had been the previous year. It was Booth and her's first Christmas as a couple. They had the rare opportunity to take Parker on an extended trip the first two weeks of December, and they had spent the time skiing in Utah and Colorado. Once they'd returned home, they spent a quiet Christmas Eve at home as a couple, and a rather exciting Christmas afternoon with Parker at Rebecca's house.

This year, though, promised to be her favorite yet. She couldn't say exactly what it was, but this year was filling her with a sense of contentment she had never felt before.

Brennan was pulled from her thoughts as she heard keys rattle against the front door, and moments later, Booth entered. She watched him survey the darkened apartment, before their eyes met across the room.

"I take it you made it to and from Rebecca's safely, then?" She asked, as he shucked his coat and removed his shoes.

"Yeah. Parker went on and on the whole way back about Hayley. I think he's got a crush on her," he replied, a grin making its way across his face as he made his way over.

"They spent the whole night playing that 'Wii' video game he got from my dad. Perhaps they developed a rapport." She scooted over to allow Booth to slip behind her on the couch. She yelped suddenly, squirming away as his hands slipped their way under the bottom of her blouse.

"Booth! Your hands are freezing! Stop!"

"But Bones! You really gonna leave me hanging here with Jack Frost icicle fingers?"

"I don't know what that means," she stated, still trying to escape his frigid fingers. She finally gave in, capturing his hands, and rubbing them between her own to warm them.

"You should have simply rubbed your hands in the blanket, Booth. The friction stimulates circulation much better than sticking your hands against my skin does."

She looked up at him, only to catch a grin she could only describe as devious.

"But you're so much better than a blanket, Bones. In lots of ways, too."

She rolled her eyes, moving to lean back against his chest once she was content his hands were no longer a hazard to her personal comfort. They sat in quiet for a long while, Booth casually running his fingers through her hair.

"This was a good year," he finally spoke, eyes focussed on the candles perched on the widow, visible through the dark Christmas tree.

"It was," she replied, not looking up from her position against him. She let out a low chuckle. "But it was definitely kind of...chaotic."

"Well, having your family, your partner's family, and your coworkers and their families will do that, you know. But still, it was a good year. It was fun."

She hummed in agreement, the long day starting to catch up with her. She felt him kiss the top of her head, and she smiled.

Of all the changes in her life, particularly at the holidays, this man was the best. He was irrational, emotional, and he drove her crazy. He was her opposite, and yet, he wasn't. He balanced her, completed her, as cliché as that sounded. Not because she was incomplete before, but because both of them became a better whole when they were together. And he made her happy.

Before, happiness was being productive, in offering closure to families of the dead. Now, it was that and so much more. It was every day having someone you cared about. It was making snow angels on the lawn of the Jeffersonian, it was traditional mistletoe kisses. It was taking pictures on Christmas morning, and it was sitting here in the candle light with someone you love.

"Booth?"

"Hmm?" He sounded sleepy.

"Merry Christmas."

"Merry Christmas, Bones."


End file.
